


This Isn't Goodbye, It's See You Later

by McFaye



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, That update fucked me up so I had to make this, mitjo - Freeform, theres some mention of abuse and eating disorders so, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 20:29:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16002707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McFaye/pseuds/McFaye
Summary: yes that title absolutely is from the last camp camp end credits song shut up





	This Isn't Goodbye, It's See You Later

**Author's Note:**

> yes that title absolutely is from the last camp camp end credits song shut up

/I’m p sure this won’t be how the next update goes but i had to write this bc i had a need to make some sad hurt comfort shit/

/also idk the names of the other foster kids so just pretend the ones i put are correct./

 

Jonas 12:59 Can you come over. Please.

Mitch stopped short with his phone in his hand, falling behind the rest of his friends. His heart skipped a beat in a bad way. In the way the body told you something was really wrong. 

“Hey, Mitch. You just gonna stand there?” 

It took him a couple seconds to register that Javier had said something, and a couple more to register it was a question. He fiddled with his hand, rapid-fire reaching to grab it before it fell. It was so cracked already, and he absolutely did not have the money for another one. 

“I gotta go.” 

Mitch shoved his phone back into his pocket and pulled his hood over his head, turning on his heel to head in the opposite direction in favor of egging Neil’s house.

“Aww come on, we were just gettin’ started!” 

Scratch pulled her skull mask off to latch onto Mitch’s arm, only to be promptly shaken off, much more forcefully than usual. She fell on her ass onto the pavement, staring up at him, slightly scared. Mitch’s angry face deteriorated, remorseful.

“Sorry. I just, I have to leave. I’ll see you guys later.” He turned back around with a weak wave of his hand, heading to Jonas’s house, leaving his posse standing on the sidewalk, watching him walk away.  
\--

Mitch gritted his teeth, going over the night sequentially in his brain, wondering where he went wrong. Once he got the word from Javier that they were going out for some vandalism, he immediately wanted to bring Jonas along, as he always did. He did, of course, account for Jonas’s tight-ass foster father, throwing a bus on top of a Target downtown. He even made sure no one was on the bus, and that it didn’t severely damage the building. He knew he’d throw a fit if he found out Mitch possibly hurt people. 

Once he knew Dean would be called, he made a beeline for Jonas’s house and levitated himself up to his bedroom window. He had gotten there when he was eating dinner, but it was still worth it to see the look on his face. They went off to Sellwood High, and though he would have loved to have his boyfriend commit petty crimes with him, he let him stay outside and keep watch. When the cops busted them they ran away, and they went their separate ways on the agreement that they text each other when they got to their next destination safely.

Jonas’s text could have been about literally anything. Maybe he was just feeling a little clingy, or maybe Dean could have kicked his teeth in. No matter the reasoning, he wanted to be there for him.

Thinking about this brought him to the conclusion that he should probably reply to his text. He saw it about fifteen minutes ago and Jonas would have noticed that he saw it. 

Mitch 1:27- m almst ther

He hoped his texting style wasn’t too informal at a time like this, keeping his eyes on his phone as he walked towards the backyard, where Jonas’s bedroom window was. He bumped into the side of the house, eagerly awaiting his reply. Mitch shoved his phone back into his pocket and shrugged his hood off, looking up at all the other windows, making sure none of the lights were on.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, and he could already feel blood starting to pour out of his nostrils. Telekinesis had become very easy for him, but when it came to doing it to himself, it got complicated. He had to force himself to relax and force himself to focus at the same time. Before he knew it, the blood was coating his teeth and chin and he was right next to the window sill. 

Now that he was up there, he had to focus on keeping himself up there so that he didn’t fall to the ground, like some sort of Loony Tunes situation. He gripped the window lock and pulled, pushing the pane up and sticking his arms through to hold onto the wall in case his powers fell through. 

“Spots? I’m here…fuck.” 

He started falling to the bedroom carpet, but stopped himself, holding onto his face to make sure none of his blood stained it. He knew if Dean saw that thinking it was Jonas’s, he’d really give him something to bleed about.

He rubbed his face with his sweatshirt for a few moments, making sure he got all the blood off. Jonas wouldn’t want to kiss him if he tasted like copper. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

He threw the sweatshirt onto a desk chair and walked towards the bed to see his boyfriend lying there in the same clothes he had been wearing that night. In the pale moonlight, he had also noticed still wet tear tracks streamed all over his cheeks. He had cried himself to sleep. 

It was at that moment that his heart just broke. His gut was right, something /was/ really wrong. There was a faint, curly ring of neon blue light hovering around him, protecting him like a forcefield. The closer he looked, he realized he could see one more prominent color: green. Fear.

“Joey…”

He outstretched his hand to wipe off some of the tears, gently pushing his hand through the lights, when suddenly they materialized around his wrist, clamping down tightly. 

When his lights became solid, and when he realized they were grabbing onto something, Jonas opened his red, tired eyes, and after rubbing them a couple times, looked up at Mitch. He then looked at Mitch trying to discreetly wrangle his wrist free. The lights had become just light so quickly he accidentally punched himself in the face, kickstarting the nosebleed he just had.

“Mitch! Are you okay?”

He reached for a box of kleenex on his nightstand and held it out for Mitch. After a quick wipe (and with the blood still going regardless) he wrapped his arms around Jonas. Tightly at first, but then more loosely when he considered the possibility of what Dean might have done to him before he got there. 

Jonas gently set his hands on his lower back, drying his damp tear tracks on Mitch’s T-shirt. He pulled back slightly to read what he was wearing this time. Gay Wrath. He snicker-sobbed pathetically, pulling on his shirt even harder, trying to release his newfound energy from being woken up. 

“Th-thank you for coming.”

He had sniffled numerous times throughout those four words, and his voice wavered on borderline sobs, trying to stop himself from crying. No matter how many times he had cried in front of him, he didn’t think it would ever stop being embarrassing.

“Hey, hey. You don’t need to thank me. ‘Course I came.” He rubbed Jonas’s back, trying to calm him down. 

“What happened after we separated? Are you okay? Did he-”, Mitch’s eyes narrowed in fury at the mere thought. “Did Dean hit you?” 

Jonas shivered at the thought, clutching his sides, leaning his head away from Mitch’s chest.

“No. But he might as w-well have.” 

“What did he say to you?”

“He-” 

Jonas stopped short, looking at Mitch’s face. His boyfriend’s face. The face of the boy who would tease him throughout his childhood. The face of the only person who had kissed him. The face of the only person who cared.

No matter how many times his subconscious told him that this wouldn’t last, he wouldn’t get to keep this happiness, he couldn’t deny that Mitch loved him, even if he hadn’t said it. It wasn’t being vain about their relationship or anything, it was just incredibly obvious. He knew it when he talked with him at Wackyland in the neglected roller coaster cart. He knew it when he sat next to him at the cove, shivering in his underwear, spilling his feelings. And he, of course, knew it when Mitch kissed him for the first time later that night. 

//And Jonas loved /him/ too much to tell him.// 

“He just, it was..one of the other foster kids. He, uh-” 

He couldn’t move his frown any more and just left his broken fake story at that, hoping that Mitch wouldn’t make him explain further. He just looked into his eyes, practically begging for him to let him keep quiet.

//It would break him.//

//Mitch had enough to think about.//

//If he just left, he wouldn’t have to see the haunting look on his face when he told him.//

//If he didn’t tell him, they could have one last night of bliss.//

“Just, can you stay over tonight? At least until like, 6 am?” Jonas adjusted his wake up time earlier, knowing Dean would make him get up early to pack. 

“Of course. You couldn’t make me leave even if ya tried.” Jonas’s lights flashed pink and blue.

//See his smile one last time.//

He shook as he got off the bed, his hands practically vibrating as he locked his bedroom door. This one last night had to be perfect, which obviously meant that he wouldn’t allow /anyone/ else into his room under any circumstances. He wouldn’t allow any interference.

He crawled back onto the bed, and laid down gently, trying to convince himself to stop shaking. If it was still obvious he was still upset, Mitch would keep pressing him, and he refused to let himself say another word about it.

Even though he didn’t feel like it, he forced himself to take off his shoes, pants and sweatshirt, so he was only in his T-shirt and boxers. He wanted to be relaxed. This couldn’t be a stressful night.

//He couldn’t let Mitch catch on.//

Ordinarily, Jonas wouldn’t have watched him take off most of his clothes, but if he wasn’t going to see him again, he wanted to savor it as much as he could. 

His eyes first went to his skinny torso, and he almost cringed as he saw some visible ribs. He hoped that Mitch would keep taking care of himself after he was gone. Then his eyes went to his strong arms, and his mind went to how comforting it felt when he held him with them. Then he looked at his long legs, but he wasn’t in a good enough mood to blush. He put a hand on his arm.

“You are, so beautiful.” 

//But he couldn’t go without letting him know something he’d always wanted to tell him.//

“Psh,” he said, which was certainly big talk for someone who had practically turned entirely red.

Mitch normally would have flopped unceremoniously onto his bed, but he was careful to be quiet. He immediately wrapped his arms around Jonas’s torso, pulling his head onto his chest. 

Jonas played with Mitch’s hands, making himself relax. Yet he still wanted to keep himself awake. If he fell asleep he would waste away the night, or he might wake up too late, and there would be no time to get Mitch out of the house and away with no suspicion. 

//He couldn’t just let him leave without a goodbye.//

He studied his body, waiting for the signals of someone who’s asleep. He knew Mitch had sleep problems, but he was praying that tonight he’d be out like a light.

After a while, the rise and fall of his chest was smooth and regular, the rest of his body didn’t move, and he was even snoring slightly. Now was his chance.

The absolute precision that it took to worm his way out of his boyfriend’s iron grip without disturbing him was nothing short of a miracle. Once he was free and standing next to the bed, the panic set in again. The panicked, anxious feeling from earlier didn’t stop, it was just subdued by having his strong arms around him. He shook it off. It didn’t matter how he felt, he had shit to do.

He took a pad of sticky notes off his desk along with a pen. He unlocked the door, and quietly walked into the hallway and closed the door again. Jonas was then met with a long hallway, with many doors. A group of foster kids in each, and in one of them, Dean and Sue.

He would stay away from that one. 

The next ten minutes or so were spent over the small pad of paper, thinking over what to write, and for whom.

[Anthony and Brandon

Remember that time Sid and I got adopted, and you two were waiting at home for us, with bouquets and a poster saying ‘Welcome Home’? 

I love you guys.]

[Sammy

I’m sorry I never got to show you how to do an ollie.

I love you and I’m so proud of you.]

//And.//

[Sidney

I’m going to miss you so, so, so much.

I love you so much]

Through teary eyes, he shoved the notes under the right doors, hoping that they noticed them when they got up. At the same time, he hoped they didn’t read them, he hoped he didn’t make them miss him so much. He picked up his pen again and wrote one final note.  
\--

He tiptoed down the stairs, listening intently for any stirring upstairs. He found an old plastic bag in a cabinet and headed over to the kitchen.

Jonas shoved in a numerous amount of snacks, boxed meals, a bottle of vitamins, and various other foods. He tried to pick mostly healthy things, hell, he threw in a whole bottle of vitamins, but he knew he would make him a lot happier if he tossed in some unhealthy stuff. Well, as unhealthy as it got in the Wagner household, which still included things with whole grain.

When he got back to the stairs, he braced himself for being sneaky again and stared into the bag. With a sigh, he dropped the note into the bag and headed back up.  
\--

He made it back into his bedroom and re-locked the door with no problems, until he saw Mitch laying there, holding a bunched up blanket under his arm, which Jonas had placed there so that he didn’t realize he was gone. This part was going to be the hardest. 

After setting the bag down on the floor, he made his way back into Mitch’s arms. It took surgeon-like accuracy to get back in there without waking him up, but he made it. He glanced over at his alarm clock. 3 am. He had time.

Whether he liked it or not, he fell asleep and held onto Mitch for dear, dear life. But alas, not all good things last forever. He realized that when he was woken up by his absence and saw him pulling his clothes back on.

“Good morning, Mitch.” 

He turned around as he pulled his shirt down to his waist. He smiled at him softly, greeting him back.

//God, this is going to be way too hard.//

//He’s too weak.//

“Mornin’ Spots. I guess I’ve gotta go before the ass clown wakes up, huh?” Jonas sighed.

“Yeah. Uh, hey Mitch?” 

“Yeah?” 

Jonas got off the bed and picked up the bag, neglecting to mention it or even acknowledge it. He got on his tiptoes and pulled Mitch down by the sweatshirt, his hand wrapping around a patch of dried blood from last night’s nosebleed. He didn’t even pause to let him say anything before he pressed his lips against his, kissing him passionately. Not roughly, but gently, reminiscent of gentler kisses and of ones more intense.

It took all his strength to pull away, and even more to make eye contact. With bags under his eyes and barely any energy left, he pressed his cheek to his chest. He felt Mitch rest his chin on his head, and softly wrap his arms around him.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not like we’re sayin’ goodbye for good.”

Jonas’s eyes started to sting.

//Oh god.//

No. He fought it off. He could get through this.

“I-I know. Good-. I’ll...see you later.” 

He pressed the handle of the bag into Mitch’s palm, and let him grab onto it, but stopped him before he could look inside.

“Don’t open it in front of me.” He didn’t understand why Jonas was acting so weird, but he trusted him. He always trusted him.

“Alright.”

“Bye, Spots.” 

He walked up to the open window, crawled to the outside, and forced himself to focus again. The blood was flowing from his nose again, but not as severe as last night. A moment or so later, he let go of the window sill and descended to the grass slowly. When his feet were planted, he looked back up to the window and blew him a kiss before he left.

Jonas blew one back, smiling softly as tears poured relentlessly off his face, glad he couldn’t see him anymore.  
\--

He was home now, he could open it. Nothing was stopping him, and it wouldn’t be against Jonas’s wishes. The only thing keeping him was the not knowing. Maybe it was some stupid inside joke. Maybe he was returning the hoodie he borrowed a week or two ago. 

No, those were too obvious.

Finally, he forced himself to look into it, and he found..food? Little knick-knacks? 

On one of the boxes was a post-it note, and he immediately recognized Jonas’s handwriting. 

[Mitch

I love you, please keep eating. For me.

Goodbye.] 

Next to his goodbye, was a messily scrawled heart, bled out by a few teardrops.


End file.
